


All of Me

by Ishxallxgood



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Canon Compliant, Grand Prix Final Banquet, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Pining Victor Nikiforov, Songfic, Viktor loves Yuuri, Viktor stop making Yuuri cry
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-06
Updated: 2017-01-08
Packaged: 2018-09-15 06:09:57
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,232
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9222479
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ishxallxgood/pseuds/Ishxallxgood
Summary: Song fic done to John Legend's 'All of Me'"A chapter of his life was ending, a new one beginning, and he was simply giddy with excitement.  For the first time in forever, he was finally grabbing life by the reigns, allowing it to take him where it wanted to go.  He was finally ready and willing to give love and life a chance, because for once in his life he felt the need, the burning desire to put someone else before himself, and it felt exhilarating.  If this wasn’t love then he didn’t know what was.Never mind the fact that he barely knew the man.  Never mind the fact that the only interaction they have ever had was when the other was wasted out of his mind.  He was going to give his all to a man he barely knew, and something deep down inside of him told him that it was going to be the start of something glorious."





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I have a soft spot for Song fics, you'll come to see, but this song, All of Me, this song was written for the two of them even before they existed.
> 
> No seriously, [listen to it](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=450p7goxZqg), _really_ listen to it, if this is not Viktor singing to Yuuri then I don't know what is.

Viktor stood frozen in place as the Japanese Yuri threw his arms around him and began grinding his hips against him, mumbling something to him in Japanese, words Viktor could only pretend to understand.  And then without any warning, or perhaps there was a warning, because honestly, Viktor did not understand a lick of Japanese, Yuri asked him to be his coach, while staring up at him with the most beautiful eyes Viktor has ever seen, before throwing his arms around Viktor’s neck.  Honestly, it was really such a benign suggestion, but considering the fact that Yuri had just been dry humping him moments before, Viktor felt the blush creep up to his face as he lost all sense of reason.

Before Viktor could properly process the request or even think for that matter, Yuri pulled away from him, a devilish smirk on his lips as pulled on his trousers and beckoned Viktor to the dance floor with his eyes.  What was he going to do about that beautiful stranger who got his head spinning and his heart pounding within his chest.  Viktor never thought he would ever be so intoxicated by a man he had barely just met, but he allowed himself to be swept away, drawn into a tango as he wore his heart on his sleeve.

As they danced, all sense of reason left Viktor, and he felt more alive than he had ever felt in his life.  The room faded around him and all he could see were those entrancing brown eyes, drawing him in, leaving him to ponder what was going on inside that beautiful mind.  This stranger, this beautiful, brilliant, shining stranger shook his world and Viktor was pulled onto his magical mystery ride.  He didn’t know what hit him, but in that moment, he knew that _this_ was what he was missing in his life, that _this_ was what he needed, craved.  Unfortunately, the moment passed just as quickly as it begun, and before he knew it, Yuri had slipped through of his fingers and had disappeared into the night.

Viktor left the banquet hall an hour later, alone and somewhat distraught.  His Cinderella had appeared out of nowhere, and vanished just as quickly.  When he inquired about that man, all he was met with were blank stares and hushed apologies, and he felt as if he was losing his mind.  Conceding to his defeat he stumbled his way back to his room, falling onto his bed as his mind swam with images of that man.  He felt as if someone had pushed his head underwater, he was drowning in his thoughts, but yet he found that he was still breathing fine. It was as if Yuri Katsuki, the cause of this mess he was in now, was also a beckon of clarity amidst his muddled thoughts.

Pulling out his phone he swiped through the few pictures he was able to take, a goofy smile spreading across his lips as he stared back into the drunk man’s eyes.  “You’re crazy…” He found himself mumbling to the image on his phone, “... and I’m out of my mind.”

* * *

Viktor groaned as the incessant beeping of his phone pulled him from his much needed nap, not to mention his much desired dream.  Glaring at the device he swiped at it, annoyed by the sheer amount of notifications he had amassed in the past twenty minutes.   _‘This had better be good._ ’ He grumbled to himself as he clicked on the link which had been retweeted to him thousands of times, the dream dissipating from his mind.

As the video loaded, his breath hitched in his throat, and for the next four and a half glorious minutes he had forgotten how to breathe.  How long has it been since the Grand Prix finals?   _Three months and nineteen days_.  Viktor let out the breath he didn’t even realize he had been holding and everything suddenly came flooding back to him, not that any of it had ever really left.  Honestly, for the past three months and nineteen days, he had been reliving that night every moment he could, grasping at the fleeting images wishing they would materialize before him.

Letting out a sigh he shifted his position on the couch, sitting up slightly as he propped his arm up against the back, unsettling Makkachin, who let out a whine before settling back down against him, and he hit the replay button.  The second time he watched the video, he remembered to breath, and took note of the fact that this seemed like an entirely different Yuri Katsuki.  This Yuri Katsuki was softer, rounder, had more curves than edges, but was far beautiful than the lean, well toned Yuri Katsuki of his fantasies.  _This_ Yuri Katsuki was grace and beauty, who created music with a mere flick of a hand, twist of the foot, and moved with that music emanating off of him which made Viktor's heart beat in a way he never thought possible.  It wasn’t the frantic, exhilarating thump like that night he fell under Yuri’s spell, it was slower, more methodical, calming.

Viktor replayed the video over and over again, marveling at the man skating his routine flawlessly, falling more and more in love each time he hit the replay button.  To put it simply, he was in awe.  Yuri knew every step of the dance he had painstakingly choreographed, nailed every single jump, and poured more life into that program than Viktor himself ever had.  It was astonishing to think that this was the same man, the same Yuri Katsuki who bombed at the Grand Prix, who couldn’t even land a triple toe loop properly, but was now landing every single one of Viktor’s quads perfectly.  It would seem to Viktor, that Yuri Katsuki was dancing a mating call on ice, one meant for him and him alone.

By the time his phone went black due to battery loss, Viktor had made up his mind.  He would take Yuri up on his outrageous offer.  He would fly to Japan, and become this man's coach.  He would give this man his all and hope that he would receive just as much in return.  Plugging in the dead phone he got up, much to the dismay of Makkachin who was pushed off his master's lap, and began pacing his apartment, making a mental note of all the things he would need to pack.  Suddenly the realization that he had no idea where to even go hit him.  All he knew as Hasetsu, Japan, but where in Hasetsu was he supposed to go?  Viktor racked his brain for all the information he had on that man, he tried to remember something, anything that would help him solve his dilemma.  Curse him and his blasted memory.

Turning on his phone again he googled Yuri’s name for the umpteenth time, hoping that perhaps this time he would get a different result.  The search results were pretty much the same, although there were a handful of new articles he hadn’t read before, but they did little to provide him with an answer to his problem.  What was he missing? What was he doing wrong? How did those rabid fangirls do it?  How were they able to find the most personal information on someone?  He had a fan find his phone number once, his private, unlisted number, another who had shown up in front of his apartment building, and he, Viktor Nikiforov, couldn’t even figure out how to properly google someone.

He was desperate now, so desperate he found himself texting Chris, as if Chris could actually help him solve this mystery.

_Have you tried googling ‘Hasetsu Katsuki?’ ;)_

He blinked at Chris’ response, _no, it couldn’t be so simple_ . Frowning Viktor typed in those two words into the google search bar, dumbfounded as the first result read ‘ _Hasetsu Hot Springs, Yu-topia Katsuki._ ’  Viktor nearly fell off the couch when he clicked on the link and an image of Yuri loaded, google graciously translating the page into Russian for him.  He had found it, and he could just about kiss Chris right now.

Oh Yakov is going to be mad, but that mattered little right now, Viktor was soaring on cloud nine.  Nothing could bring him down, not when everything in his life was finally falling into place, when he finally had an answer to that burning question within his soul, ' _what now_?'  Sure, he was taking an extreme leap of faith here, but then again, it was Yuri who had suggested that Viktor be his coach in the first place.  Then again, it could have just been the ramblings of an extremely intoxicated man, but Viktor chose to believe otherwise, that those words were spoken with sincerity.

It was surprising how much he could get accomplished when he really put his mind to something, and before he knew it he was all packed up and ready to go.  Makkachin had the necessary papers to fly, he had his tickets booked and ready to go, he had said his goodbyes to Yakov, and had arranged for his apartment to be taken care of.  All that was left was to board the plane and pray that all his stuff would arrive in tact and on time.

A chapter of his life was ending, a new one beginning, and he was simply giddy with excitement.  For the first time in forever, he was finally grabbing life by the reigns, allowing it to take him where it wanted to go.  He was finally ready and willing to give love and life a chance, because for once in his life he felt the need, the burning desire to put someone else before himself, and it felt exhilarating.  If this wasn’t love then he didn’t know what was.

Never mind the fact that he barely knew the man.  Never mind the fact that the only interaction they have ever had was when the other was wasted out of his mind.  He was going to give his all to a man he barely knew, and something deep down inside of him told him that it was going to be the start of something glorious.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Where Yuuri's having a panic attack and Viktor's reminds him howuch he loves him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Takes place post series, right before the start of this year's GPF banquet.

 

“Yuuri.” Viktor said in a slow even tone, his eyes warm as he reached out a hand to touch the trembling man across from him.  A pang of guilt shooting through him again as another shudder passed through Yuuri, his heart breaking just a little bit more inside of him.

Viktor knew that this particular panic attack was his fault, that it was due to his selfishness. That it was brought about due to the fact that Yuuri had failed to capture gold, that ultimately if it hadn’t been for him, Yuuri would have taken that gold, and by much more than a small fraction of a point.  Unfortunately Viktor was a very selfish man, and after all that was said and done the night before, he was terrified of losing the Yuuri he loved the most.  

How those words broke him the night before, shattered the perfect world around him, thrusting him back into the dark abyss that Yuuri’s light had just saved him from. ‘ _I’m retiring._ ’  Those two little words pierced him so deep that for the first time since Yuuri threw himself onto him in a drunken stupor, Viktor couldn’t stand the feel of Yuuri’s hand brushed against him and swatted it away violently.

Did Yuuri not know?  Did he fail to comprehend that Yuuri on ice was what breathed new life into him? That without _that Yuuri_ Viktor would lose all sense of purpose, that life would once again be meaningless to him?  That he was his downfall, his muse, his worst distraction, his rhythm and blues?  What kind of world would it be if he could no longer witness the beauty and majesty that was Yuuri on ice?  If Yuuri chose to stop making music with his body?

It was wrong of him to have robbed Yuuri of the gold, he knew that, but in the heat of the moment he couldn’t control himself.  Viktor Nikiforov was indeed a selfish man, the most selfish man he had ever known.  He knew precisely how his words would have affected Yuri Plisetsky, he knew exactly how much that kid looked up to _his_ Yuuri, even though the angry little boy would never admit it, Viktor knew.  He could see it in his eyes, that despair which was reflected in the young Russian’s eyes, was the same despair Viktor had felt when Yuuri said those two words to him, and it was how he knew that by reminding Yuri to not forget what it was he wanted, it would cost his own precious Yuuri the gold.

Everything played out exactly the way he thought it would, everything except this.  He should have known that in the end, after the rush of all the excitement, after the pound of adrenaline subsided, when Yuuri finally had a chance to come down from that high and breathe, he would succumb to the demons twisting inside of him.  Viktor hated it, that guilt of knowing that he was the one who was ultimately responsible for Yuuri’s current state of mind.

“Yuuri.” He purred, this time his hand making contact, as it gently rested on Yuuri's shoulder, the trembling subsiding slightly under his touch.

“Vi-Vi-Victor.” Yuuri stammered, looking up at him as he leaned into Viktor's touch. “I'm… I’m... sorry.”

“Don't be lyubov moya.” Viktor replied tenderly.

“I'm such a mess.” Yuuri murmured, wiping furiously at his tears as he tried to catch his breath.

“No,” Viktor breathed, stroking Yuuri's face gently, “You're perfect.”

A dry chuckled escaped Yuuri, and Viktor got up, so he could resituate himself next to his beloved.  “I don't even know why I'm like this… it's so illogical, and I know that… but I just can't stop it…”

Viktor smiled weakly at Yuuri, that twinge of guilt reverberating within him, but there was no way he could admit to Yuuri what he had done. It wouldn't change the current situation anyhow, in fact what it would probably exasperate Yuuri and send him down another spiral of depression and anxiety. One that perhaps even Viktor wouldn't be able to pull him out of. So instead Viktor pulled Yuuri against him, holding him tightly as he placed a tender kiss on the top of Yuuri's head. “It's okay, I don't mind it.”

“But I do.” Yuuri mumbled against him. “I hate feeling this way... crying like this… deep down I know I should be happy… proud of what I accomplished today… I gave it my all and came so close… .12 of a point… but I just can't shake that feeling of failure…” He shuddered as another sob tore through him again, “... god I'm so ugly when I cry...”

“Oh Yuuri…” Viktor purred again, pulling him even closer against him, “How many times do I have to tell you…” he said releasing him slightly so he could lift Yuuri's chin and look into those emotional brown eyes he loved so much, even when they were red and rubbed raw from all that crying.  “... even when you're crying you're beautiful too.”

A forced smile crossed over Yuuri's lips as he swallowed a sob, “You're sweet, Victor…” He said, leaning into the hand Viktor was now cupping his face with. “... But I just want to feel like myself again… like the Yuuri you fell in love with.”

“Oh yebat' menya,” Viktor moaned, bringing a hand over his face as he suppressed a laugh.  “The Yuuri I fell in love with…” An image of Yuuri wasted off his ass, singing into a bottle of Brut as he threw a leg up in an impromptu dance, flashed before his eyes.  “If you want to feel like the Yuuri I fell in love with… you should hurry up and finish getting dressed, there’s a banquet going on downstairs that I’m sure we’ll be late for soon.”  He said with a laugh and dangerous twinkle in his eye as he gave Yuuri a flirtatious wink.

A dark shadow crossed over Yuuri’s face, and all remnant of his previous despair seemed to dissipate, a deep blush covering his cheeks as an understanding washed over him.  A nervous laugh escaped him, causing Viktor to grin wildly at him.  “Victor…” Yuuri said, in a low drawl, almost reproachfully.

“Yuuri…” Viktor cooed in response, the name escaping his lips, coated in a thick layer of honey.

“You’re so bad Victor.” Yuuri said, slowly standing up, pulling the towel off from around his shoulders so he could rub it against his still wet hair again.

“I’m serious.” Viktor said, that wicked grin still plastered on his face as he pulled Yuuri against him again and helped him finish drying off his hair before combing it out for him.  “Sixteen glasses of champagne is all you need to transform into the Yuuri I fell in love with again.”

“Victor,” Yuuri said again with a slight hint of warning, as he pulled on the button down shirt Viktor had laid out for him, “I’m not doing that again.”

“I’m just saying-”

“No.” Yuuri said sternly, cutting him off.  “I am not going to embarrass myself like that again.”

“But you just said you wanted to be the Yuuri I fell in love with…” Viktor whined with a pout.  He really did fall in love with drunk Yuuri, drunk uninhibited Yuuri.  A Yuuri who possessed a smoldering confidence that rendered Viktor helpless and brought him to his knees.  A Yuuri who moved with all the grace and beauty that could only otherwise be captured when Yuuri was on the ice, when Yuuri was dancing for _him_.  The past eight months Viktor did not need drunk Yuuri to satisfy him, because he had the Yuuri on ice, but it was quite difficult for him to now push the thought of drunk Yuuri out of his mind, now that he was there.  Drunk Yuuri, the thing his fantasies were made of for so many lonely months.

“Victor…”

The way Yuuri said his name snapped him out of his thoughts, a sheepish grin crossing his lips as it was evident what he was thinking about.

“I would very much like to remember this night…” Yuuri said with a hint of a blush as he settled himself down next to Viktor again, now fully dressed for the party.

“Ah yes,” Viktor murmured to himself, his eyes lighting up when Yuuri suddenly grabbed his face and locked his mouth in a kiss.

“Thank you Victor, for everything.” Yuuri said breathlessly when he finally pulled away.  “With you, even when I lose I’m winning.”

“You didn’t lose.” Viktor said, fingers gently stroking the curves of Yuuri’s face.

“I didn’t win the gold though...”

“Nonsense,” Viktor said as he smiled as he took Yuuri’s hand into his own, bringing it up to his lips and kissed the gold band around his finger reverently.  “You’ve already won the gold.”

A broad smile passed through Yuuri's face and stayed there as he too kissed matching ring on Viktor's hand, and Viktor felt as if he had ascended to heaven right there and then.  His mind was singing, ringing out with a song written for Yuuri and Yuuri alone.  How had he become so blessed to have this man in his life? This man who was pure ecstasy, who was boundless bliss, his alpha and Omega, his beginning and end.

“What have I done in my past life to be so blessed?” Yuuri said suddenly, as he lifted his and Viktor's hands, their rings glinting in the light.

Viktor let out a laugh as Yuuri voiced his inner thoughts, and if he had ever doubted whether or not Yuuri was his soulmate, something which he had never doubted, ever, he would have been convinced right there and then. “My thoughts exactly.” Viktor replied, pulling Yuuri back into a kiss, breaking only when the need for air began to overwhelm him.

“No, but really,” Yuuri said, after catching his breath. “There are days I still wonder if this is all dream… that if I go to sleep I might wake up and realize that none of this was real… I mean really… how is it that I'm actually here… sitting in a hotel room making out with with Victor Nikiforov… a silver Grand Prix Final medal around my neck… and… and Victor Nikiforov!”

“That's me!” Viktor exclaimed gleefully, unabridged joy overtaking his features as Yuuri let out a laugh, leaning against him, his head on Viktor shoulder.

“I mean I'm still in awe sometimes… that you would want _me_. Plain, basic, easily overweight, mentally defective, me.”

The smile quickly faded from Viktor's face, a knitted brow and a scowl replacing it. “Careful now, that’s _my fiancee_ you're insulting there, and I don't take kindly to anyone insulting _my Yuuri_ , the most delectable katsudon there ever was.”

Yuuri chuckled nervously as he straightened up, scratching at the back of his neck. “You flatter me, Victor.” He said almost bashfully.  “I know better than anyone how undeserving I am off your love.”

Viktor would have slapped him right there and then if he knew it would help him get through to Yuuri, but he knew it wouldn't. It infuriated him to no end how low Yuuri's self esteem was sometimes. It baffled him how Yuuri failed to see the magnificence he saw, but he also knew it came and went, and as much as this particular Yuuri exasperated him, he still couldn't help but fall more in love with him. Viktor loved the aggravating, insecure Yuuri just as much as he loved the dominate, drunk Yuuri, but not as much as he loved the Yuuri on ice, that was the one Yuuri who he has stolen his heart and entrapped his soul.

“Yuuri…” He says instead, drawing out his name as he gently caressed the cheek he had half a mind to slap. “All of me loves all of you. All you curves and all your edges, all your perfect imperfections, so stop with this silly notion that your are not good enough for me.”

“I'm sorry,” Yuuri offered, taking Viktor's hands into his own. “I don't know how to get out of my own head sometimes...”

“I know.” Viktor said lifting Yuuri's hand to his lips. “And that is why I'll always be here to remind you that I love you, and that you are perfect, and that there is no one else in this whole wide world who could do to me the things you do to me.”

Yuuri threw his arms around Viktor and captured his lips again, causing Viktor to melt against him, drinking in every last drop of the love Yuuri poured into him. Screw the banquet and all the people waiting for them downstairs, all he needed in his life right now was his beloved Yuuri and the love he was receiving. Venturing downstairs would only mean he would have to contain himself as he made mindless small talk, suppressing his desire to be completely wrecked by Yuuri.

Yuuri suddenly pulled away from Viktor, settling himself as he stands and straightened up his jacket. “We should probably go downstairs… otherwise I might just lose myself to you and ditch the banquet all together…” Yuri said, voicing the exact thoughts running through Viktor's mind.

“How do you keep doing that?” Viktor asked as he accepted Yuuri's outstretched hand and came to a stand.

“Doing what?” Yuuri asked, fixing Viktor’s tie before smoothing out the wrinkles on the front of his jacket.

“Reading my mind.”

Yuuri shrugged as he looked Viktor over. “God you're so beautiful.” Yuuri breathed, finally feeling a little bit like himself again.

“And you, my love, you're the pork cutlet bowl fatale that enthralls men.”

The look Yuuri gave him in response to that statement sent shivers down Viktor’s spine and set every inch of his body on fire. Unable to contain himself any longer Viktor launched himself at Yuuri and devoured him.  Grinning as Yuuri let out a squeak as his back hit the bed, Viktor's weight on top of him.

A loud thump at the door drew Viktor's attention away from Yuuri, and both men's heads snapped toward the door. There was another thump followed by a string of muffled screaming and both men instantly knew who was on the other side of the door and what was being said.

Yuuri let out a laugh as he pushed Viktor off of him. Getting up he crossed the room and pulled open the door, smiling warmly at the riled up Russian teenager seething before him.

“If the two of you are done being disgusting and fucking each other, the banquet started almost an hour ago and I've had about enough with everyone asking where the fuck you guys are.”

“Yes, yes Yurio.” Viktor said draping an arm around Yuuri, “we're coming.”

“That's not my fucking name!”

Viktor let out a small laugh as he pushed passed the angry teen, the door to their room closing behind him. “Are you _sure_ there's nothing I can do to convince you to drink?” Viktor asked playfully, receiving a reproachful glare from Yuuri as Yurio mumbled something indistinguishable behind them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wanted to keep it consistent with the last chapter where Viktor refers to Yuuri as Yuri, but it would have gotten really confusing so I went with Yuuri here.
> 
> Also, I feel like in the previous chapter Viktor hadn't "officially" met Yuuri yet, just a sloppy drunken encounter, so he refers to him by his "official" in print name, Yuri. While here, it's post series, and he already knows Yuuri intimately so the switch to Yuuri makes sense. I'm sure you guys didn't even notice and or care and I'm just making a big deal about this for no reason. Haha

**Author's Note:**

> I still have half a song to write, I hope you enjoyed this.


End file.
